23. mai 2012

Some people ask why I usually shoot black and white*, and I don't always have an answer ready for them. As always, someone have said it better than me, so I quote:

"Working with black and white photography has always been the most direct
way for me to reach more existential questions. In black and white I
feel my images are not bound to a specific location or time, but they
create their own universe. I like to think they are about something else
and more than just what they show. At least that is my ambition; to
focus on our emotions and a state of mind that is not defined by how we
look or where we come from, but on the things that connect us and make
us dependent on each other."

11. mai 2012

The above picture illustrate what I think is wrong with the camera development today.
The right one is my trusty Nikon FG, a semi-pro (fullframe) film camera introduced in 1982, discontinued in 1986. It is 420g and 139x86x53mm. To the left is a Nikon D700, a camera I'm considering buying second hand, a pro digital fullframe camera introdused in 2008, expected to be discontinued this year. It is 995g and 147x123x77mm.

Some quick calculating tells us the D700 is 120% larger in volume and 140% heavier then the FG, although they are both fullframe, use the same lens-mount, and is directed at roughly the same user segment.

Now can we, for arguments sake, agree that size matters. Soem photographers like to run into a crowd, scream "Power!!" and firing away at 12 fps., but I think most people, at least amateurs, long for smaller cameras. Working in a camera outlet I often hear people argue they want a smaller, more handy camera then their DLSR to bring on holidays and sunday walks. When the camera is smaller, lighter, slips into a coat pocket and delivers just as good quality, it is used more, and it gives the user better picture. When trying to blend into a crowd to shoot, a smaller camera attracts less attention. When shooting for days straight it doesn't ruin your hands and joints. So why oh why have the camera producers been so keen to put out DSLRs that are massive compared to its film equivalents? Small cameras are now regarded as the Electronic Viewfinder Interchangeable Lens (EVIL) cameras, being released with exclusive mounts (Nikon 1, micro 4/3 etc.) and small sensors, not necessarily appealing to professionals (although there are happy exceptions)

What I would love to see is a full frame F-mount DSLR with meter, autofocus and preview-screen, all the things you expect in 2012, but fit into the same size and weight of a Nikon FG equivalent.

Note: The recently released D800 is starting to hit the market 100g lighter than the D700. Thank you Nikon, more of that please!

8. mai 2012

This is Mathilde, one of my best friends (I don't like to arrange them), a student living in a cabin by Djuvland in Rauland, Telemark.

The last four years I have lived in a relatively crammed and dark apartment. Even though it is partly underground, it is spacious enough and I have made it into my home. Mathilde has taken a different approach to student-housing, studying in probably the smallest towns for higher education in Norway, Rauland in Telemark, living in a tiny cabin by a farm nested between a gorge and the mountians. There are 40, tight-knit fulltime students in Rauland, most living in cabins. Standards of living varies greatly in any students housing choice, ranging from studios and collectives to moms basement, but the cabin Mathilde lives in is something different. Instead of the common shared bathroom, hers is in a bucket in the basement, down a hatch and a steep flight of stairs. Shower? At school. Running water? Only if the roof leaks. She has a sort of air conditioning when the wind is right and comes through cracks in her door. Only the electricity and laptop tells us this is a girl living in the 21st century. That said, I admire her choice of living greatly!

When I look out my tiny windows (don't tell the fire-inspector) all I see is the driveway and parked cars. If I'm lucky a cat walks by. Mathildes view is the gorge that names the farm she lives on, Djuvland, and the valley with the scattered houses of downtown Rauland framed by majestic mountains still covered in snow in late april. On her front step there is a view of the mountains surrounding Hardangervidda. There is hardly a sound to be heard and the air is crispy fresh. My neighboorhood has a distinct smell coming from the nearby fishfood plant. For me, Mathildes cabin is almost perfect, a place I could live and be happy.

Except, it isn't. I balance between longing for the calmness of mountians and the urbanity of a city. The urban condition suits me, but I need the counterweight as much as I need the anonymity and excitement of a city. Mathilde on the other hand, is probably the least urban person I know to have grown up in a city...

5. mai 2012

My second consert, Silver supported by Kvelertak. This photo has not been published before, as I only now see that it is quite good!

Looking back at the picture I took as a rookie consert photographer is a mixed-bag. My first consert was Rumble in Rhodos, in Grottene of Folken, a then-new club scene. The lighting was two spots and two old lamps with blood-stains (or what was supposed to look like blood). Looking back, I think the pictures are decent, and I can be proud to show them of as the start of what is now a collection of some 200 concerts.

Lead singer of Rumble in Rhodos, shot during the short few seconds he actually stood in the beam from one of the spotlights.

When there is no light; shoot abstracts!

Lead guitar in Rumble in Rhodos. I think this shot puts a light on (pun? Maybe...) electric guitar.